Sometimes I wish I could run away.
I could be free to do the things I want.
Free to live the way I want.
Free to be who I think I was meant to be.
Sometimes I wish I was a bird,
able to soar high above the clouds.
High enough to be far away
from the confusion of the city noise.
Above the quiet and the loneliness of the country.
There is no in between—no middle ground.
Sometimes I wish I were a caterpillar,
knowing that one day
I would become a beautiful butterfly.
Sometimes I dream of
how things could have been,
should have been,
but my weakness prevailed.
What could have been
was so perfect for me,
at least in my mind,
but the wrong turn was taken,
and I have ended up in
a lonely town knowing no one
and trying my best to fit in.
What should have been
will be in my heart,
forever hidden
and known but to me.
Never to see the light
that reflects from the tears
I shed for what might have been.
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